


Thou Shall Not (Dammit, Steve!)

by Frisk15



Series: Family Hodgepodge [6]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Danno's a good cook though, Danny can be scary as shit!, Established Relationship, Humor, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Steve fails at parenting, Steve's also a lousy mechanic, Temperatures are crazy!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 10:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frisk15/pseuds/Frisk15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one of those "who turned up the oven and set the dial to Inferno?!" kinda days, and tempers sizzle right along with the temperature. Will the end result be a fiery eruption, or can they find a cool place to collect themselves again? A story of failing at parenthood, and the ability to see the sunny side of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're a lousy mechanic (and you suck as a father, too!)

* * *

 

"Owwww, God _dammit_! Jesus _fucking_..."

The swearing is momentarily interrupted by the loud clang of an object flung against something metal, then continues. Steve's attempt at abusing a certain deity's name - well no, not an attempt; he's actually really, _really_ good at it, because spending years on a piece of metal floating on the infinite ocean, away from society, away from norms, will do that to a man; will reduce his inhibitions and turn him into a swearing caveman - is suddenly accompanied by a child's sweet voice, echoing the curses in a sing-song manner as if it's sounding out a favorite nursery rhyme.

Danny's head pops out of the front door so fast, it's as if he's some kind of demented Jack-in-the-box on speed.

" _Steven!_ What did I tell you about language use in front of Kieran, God..."

He pauses for a moment, then continues.

"forbidmestoopingtoyourlevelandwere _so_ goingtohave _words_ aboutthis, McGarrett!"

Glares at the man sucking his finger, then glowers as their eyes meet. "Sulking! You're actually _sulking_! How are you considered to be an _adult_ , McGarrett? Sulking is for kids, _not_ for big tough soldiers..."

"Sailors, Danny" comes a muffled response, words sounding sloppy around a wet finger. There's a shocked intake of breath.

"Words, Steven. We are having _words_!"

The front door slams shut.


	2. Just kill me softly (with a smile, please)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milk on a table, served with a heaping side order of swearing.

* * *

 

It's a warm, sticky, _icky_ kind of day, with sweat creating slow rivulets and gathering into places moisture has no business convening.

The type of day where you want to take a shower every five minutes but you _can't_ , because the effort of it all makes you sweat even more. The sort of day Danny Williams almost hates even _more_ than sticking yellow fruit on what he deems to be the best _ever_ invention. I mean, fuck sliced bread. That type of shit doesn't even come close to the miracle that is crispy yet still chewy baked dough covered with tomatoes and moz, creating warm strings that will burn your tongue but yet taste _so_ delicious when you suck them from between your teeth.

Anyway. It's _hot!_

 

* * *

 

The three of them are sitting at the table, Kieran in a booster seat so he actually gets to see what he shoves in his mouth. His blond hair - Danny's, _all_ Danny's. Right down to the way it always refuses to stay in place unless buzzed short enough to make it more managable - bleached nearly white by the sun, sticking up in sweat soaked spikes, his green-blue eyes - they change color with his mood and are obviously Steve's input, and Danny's fine with that; he _loves_ those eyes, OK? - half lidded from being sluggish due to the heat. His movements are sluggish, and Danny thinks that maybe he should've bedded him down earlier than this; maybe the kid's too tired to sit at the table, but then again, he seems to be OK. So, fine. They're having dinner at the table. They don't get to do that often enough, what with their crazy non-schedules at Five-Oh.

"This is _good_ , Danno."

Danny looks over at Steve, smiling at the compliment and feeling a little rush of heat, a little warm something that has absolutely _nothing_ to do with the day's temperature course through his body when he catches the lazy wink thrown in his direction. They'll have to do something about that. Later. When Kieran is safely tucked away and dead to the world, when he and Steve can retreat to the privacy of their bedroom and maybe add a little extra curricular sweat to their already heat drenched bodies and...

"Sombitch."

A rush of something cold pools against Danny's right arm, and he jerks to look back at Kieran. The kid's hand is outstretched, fingers curled as if on the verge of grasping something. The 'something' obviously being the glass lying on its side, contents - "Milk, Danno. Please?" had been Kieran's response to Danny's question what he wanted to drink with dinner - now spilled, pooling over the table and against Danny's arm. There's a dark frown pulling down Kieran's forehead, and right now he's the _spitting_ image of his other Dad. Of Steve. A carbon copy of the man he loves and who taught their son how to swim at a ridiculous young age, and how to pitch a football, and how to swe...

Danny whips his head towards his husband to incinerate him with a death stare, then turns back again to the boy, now sulking while he stares at the empty glass.

" _Kieran!_ What did I tell you about using words like that! Those are bad, _bad_ words, and..."

There's a sound coming from the other end of the table. A snort. Danny does a full body turn, almost upsetting his chair while he flings an accusing finger at the man hunched down over his dinner plate.

"Are you ... are you _laughing?!_ No, seriously. _Please_ enlighten me, because I'm obviously not getting it. Do you.." - and his voice drops down to a level Steve knows signals impending danger, yells **'Incoming!'** and instinctively makes him want to duck underneath the table - "do you think this is _funny?!_ "

There's something wrong with Steve's brain. He just _knows_ it.

It's the only logical conclusion. His brain has been scrambled somehow, most likely caused by head-butting bullets and being punched in the face too often. It's screwed up his thinking and made him lose his sense of self-preservation. Because instead of doing the _smart_ thing, instead of covering his ass and tell Danny that, _no_ , he doesn't think this is funny; doesn't think it's funny _at all_. Instead of doing that, he glances up from between his lashes and, with a detached sense of utter _horror_ , hears words come out of his mouth that are as far removed from self-preservation as Pluto is from Earth. Further, actually. And he can't _stop_ himself.

"Yeah, I kinda do. Find it funny. Yes."

And that's it. Fate sealed. Judge's hammer slamming down. Verdict given. He's received the death penalty and he's gonna _die_. Possibly die a long, slow and torturous death. Not, not possibly. Not even remotely likely. It's a _certainty_. He can see the previously brewing storm in those blue eyes turn into a hurricane. A level 5. No, no, it's gone beyond that. It's actually _destroyed_ the Safir-Simpson Wind Scale in one fell swoop and created a whole new level of its own. The  Danny Williams Unbelievable Destruction scale. And it's aimed right at him. It's going to _end_ him.

"I'm going to _end_ you!"

There. Steve _knew_ it. Danny's eyes stay locked on his while he spits out the words, pupils blown so wide by anger that only a thin rim of blue remains around them. A chill, an actual _chill_ runs over Steve's back as he contemplates how willing Danny is to actually put those words into action, and realizes that he may - no, will _have_ to - jump and run for his life. Because. Because that's actually a little bit of foam sitting on his partner's lip. His baby's other daddy is so mad he's actually _foaming at the mouth_ , and that is never a good sign.

"Hey. No. Look, Danno..."

His intended apology, his effort at reigning in things so Danny will defuse and drop down to a level that will not get him killed, is interrupted by a hiss.

"Do.Not.Call.Me. _Danno!"_

The finger of death is still pointed at him, still aiming at his face as if it's a loaded weapon and capable of blowing his head off. It actually might, Steve thinks. He's seen lesser men than him cowering beneath that finger; has seen them _crumble_ and fall down to their knees. It's a very scary, _very_ lethal finger. So he throws his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry. I'm _really_ sorry. I know I f.. messed up with the swearing thing, and I promise. No _seriously_ , Danny. Don't look at me that way! I _promise_ I'll stop doing that around Kieran."

Steve eyes the finger, still hovering unwavering in his direction. Then looks at Danny's face, then back at the finger again. And breathes a sigh of relief as the finger wavers, then slowly drops. He's actually really, _really_ proud of himself for having accomplished something even a bomb squad with decades of experience most likely would've failed at. Defusing Danny while he's in a killing mood.

And then he finds out that he was just passing through the eye of the storm, just enjoying what turns out to be a short, peaceful _reprieve_ before being thrown right back in Danny's _Hurricane of Destruction_.

Because he's stupid.

Stupid enough to throw a glance at Kieran, and his kid - _Their_ kid. He should remember that. Because even though Kieran seems to have inherited most of Steve's DNA, there's also loads of Danny in his genetical makeup. - this kid is sticking out his finger as well, sticking it in _Danny's_ direction, frowning while doing so, and he's opening his mouth and Steve knows. He just _knows_ , alright? Knows that the next words out of that little mouth are going to be so, _so_ bad; also knows that, when - not if; when. It's a given - Danny will whip his head around to their son he will contact with that finger and things will be _so_ much worse!

And that's exactly what happens.

"Fucker!"

Danny's shocked intake of breath is almost immediately followed by a *squeak* of pain as Kierans' finger - and see? Steve just _knew_ that would happen. Knew it and will have to start taking advantage of that type of paranormal knowledge as he looks to find a job with a circus or something, because his career with Five-Oh has been _torpedoed_ as of this instance, because of what he does next when - his, no, _their_ kid's finger pokes Danny in the eye. And Steve just loses it.

Loses it and just _howls_ his ass off laughing.

Laughs _so_ hard his chair topples backwards, dumping him on the ground and he just lays there. Just lays there and clutches his stomach and doesn't even _care_ anymore that he's going to die within the next second or so. Continues to laugh so hard that his face starts aching and his guts just cramp up and he just. Just can't _stop_.

Can't stop even when Danny's face comes to hover over him, one slightly red eye blinking rapidly.

"You're _evil_ , McGarrett. You know that, right? Evil to the _core_."

Steve continues to snort and sniff and gasp, unable to stop, _completely_ incapable of putting an end to his own demise as he feels snot running down his face and sweat coursing down his back while he stares up at Danny. Stares up at a face that _glowers_ , then miraculously seems to relax, and then ... breakes out in a smile.

Danny actually _smiles!_

The next moment Danny comes crashing down next to Steve, flops half over him actually, and holds him while he himself starts to shake. Starts giggling and then _laughing_ out loud, and it doesn't take long before they're entangled, holding on to each other while they shake and shudder with the force of their merriment.

"Danno? Pops?"

And the two men disentagle themselves, unlatch their limbs so they can rise off the floor far enough to see Kieran's head popped over the table's edge - and Danny instinctively makes a mental note that the next seat booster will have to include some type of securing device, because this is _dangerous_ \- while he's looking down at them, a confused and surprised look on his sweet face.

"You OK?"

Still snorting, Steve looks back at Danny. Takes in his floppy hair and sparkling blue eyes - and the red seems to have gone down some already, so no permanent damage there - and raises an eyebrow.

"We OK, Danno?"

Danny returns the look, still hiccupping slightly from the bout of laughter. He takes in the teary eyes of his partner, the way his face is so completely relaxed, his generous mouth still wide with merriment. He takes it all in and smiles and then looks back up at their little son, still leaning over the edge of the table.

"Yes, sweetheart. We're OK."

There's a little sigh of contentment as the head disappears, followed by a happy little voice that signals all's well in the world.

"Fuckin' A."

And they lose it all over again.

 

* * *

*EDIT*  Somehow I managed to take a Dutch word and just Anglicize it instead of actually translating it (loam, which should be - and now is - sluggish). Corrected ;-)


End file.
